Give the Girl A Coconut
by dark of the moon
Summary: FIXED, sweet oneshot about the joys of alcohol and weird behaviour. DMHG. Please R&R!


**Give The Girl A Coconut**

**Disclaimer:** It's a shock, but I own nothing – it's all J.K. Rowlings!

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"Granger! You're drunk!"

Draco Malfoy watched as Head Girl, Hermione Granger, staggered into their shared common room after a girly night out in Hogsmede.

Just moments before, Draco had been innocently stacking away some blankets that had been returned from the laundry when he was interrupted by the sound of Granger swearing to herself, then giggling, then swearing to herself again. The portrait must have opened because Malfoy suddenly became aware of the scent of Ogden's Fire Whiskey when his inebriated peer came wobbling into view.

"Granger! You're drunk!"

Blinking inanely at her fellow Head person, she crossed the room huffing profusely, apparently after having decided that she didn't like the tone of his voice. Poking her finger in to the middle of his chest, whilst staring Draco straight in the eye, she noticed how warm and firm his chest was.

So it's true then, she figured, Malfoy wasn't cold-blooded.

Hermione giggled slightly at her own highly clever and witty thought. Even if it was only made in her head. Jabbing him again with her forefinger she noticed again how muscular he had become…

He was so different from the Draco Malfoy she had avoided for the best part of six years, in several ways.

Momentarily puzzled, her eyes left his face to watch as her fingertips went on a somewhat more extensive explorative mission across his chest. He really was quite impressive.

Draco merely watched the bushy-haired Gryffindor with a mixture of amusement and confusement as she poked and prodded her way around his upper torso.

"What the-!" Draco snapped out of his reverie by the realisation that Hermione's fingers were getting lower and lower.

If he's that impressive up there then it would only make sense for the pattern to continue and for him to be just as impressive "down there". Hermione once again giggled to herself. Eyebrows furrowing together, Hermione stopped giggling - why had her hands stopped moving?

Draco had grabbed Hermione's wrists before her hands had gotten too far and was once again watching her in amusement – she had the same quizzical expression as before but it seemed to have intensified slightly.

…Well they're definitely not spiders, she reasoned. Spiders have eight legs…these things have only got five legs. They can't be spiders unless, maybe they're mutant spiders…mutant _albino_ spiders! But, well, they look more cream than white. Does that mean they're not albino? They're not really hairy enough to be spiders. Spiders are normally hairy right? Right. These ones aren't hairy. And they don't have any eyes. Spiders have eyes. Eight eyes. Just like they have eight legs. Only these ones don't have eight legs…

Hermione blinked a couple more times in confusion before snapping suddenly back into focus. "Oh my God! We've got an infestation of mutant albino spiders!" As panic erupted inside of her

Hurtling herself across the room, waving her now free arms frantically, Hermione attempted to dive into the closet Draco had previously been rooting around in. He watched her still, his gaze never leaving her - what in the world has she been going on about mutant albino spiders for?

Of course, when one has had a bit too much to drink, simple tasks (such as hiding from mutant albino spiders) becomes quite a challenge, and alas, Hermione is no different from everybody else.

The fire whiskey had affected her sense of balance _and_ judgement. The heels she had been wearing hardly helped as they snagged in the Persian rug on the floor of the common room, making her lurch to the right, sending a vase of roses and table light flying as she struggled to correct her balance whilst maintaining her forward momentum.

The change of course however, now meant that the open closet as first aimed for, was now further to the left than it had been to begin with. Rebounding after colliding head-first with the closed door of the closet, Hermione found herself sprawled on her back and looking up into the concerned, slightly bemused, incredibly attractive, eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"Ow."

Draco smirked, not out of maliciousness but because of the fact that Hermione Granger; Head Girl of Hogwarts School of Witch Craft and Wizardry, respected among all students (well…all those except Slytherins) for studying so hard and maintaining high grades, revered for being one of The-Boy-Who-Lived's best friends, was drunk.

Hermione blinked up at Draco.

"Are you alright?" Draco asked cautiously, wondering whether he should try to convince her to go up to the hospital wing, like she had to him nearly twenty-four hours ago.

"Ow."

"Do you want to go to bed?"

"Ow."

Draco was beginning to become concerned about her inability to say anything other than ow. 'Maybe that bang knocked her vocabulary out of her head. Hmm, that could be useful. There you go!' Draco thought triumphantly, 'you'll be back to your old self in no time!'

"Should I take you to Madame Pomfrey?" He asked but he didn't really want to take her to the hospital wing. Madame Pomfrey would tell Professor McGonagall and Professor McGonagall would not be happy. As much as Draco enjoyed annoying Granger, he couldn't take advantage of her current state; it just wouldn't be fair, not after how she'd looked after him the last night. He had made a much worse patient than her of course; he had been far more obnoxious than her, and he had had a visitor for her to deal with too.

----------

'_I'm going to kill Malfoy. He **knew **that those Slytherins were going to ambush those second year Hufflepuffs! That's why he asked to swap patrol nights. He **knew**, and he left **me** to deal with it. I don't care about his breaking up with Pansy! I don't **care** if she is stalking him! I don't **care** if he thinks he's God's gift to women! **I don't care**! I am **never** going to forgive him for this, **never**! _

'_I mean, sure, I am Head Girl, and of course I know far more than a bunch of second year Slytherins and Hufflepuffs put together, so it wasn't actually much of a challenge disarming them…but to **know** what was going to happen and not warn me! If I hadn't of been there then God knows how many dungbombs those Hufflepuffs would have been hit with! And Filch! Filch **obviously** has to get involved! Shuffling along with that damn cat, muttering about stringing up all the students in the school. Those Hufflepuffs are going to be scarred for life! _

'_And Draco **knew**! It's **his** fault my hair now smells like a horses ass! He may be good-looking, but I am going to make him ugly for doing this…either that or he is going to be doing my patrol for the next three months!' _

Hermione's rantings occupied her for the full twenty minute walk back to her dormitory.

She sighed to herself, "Oh it's good to be back," before stating clearly "Duty Done" – the password for hers and Draco's shared living quarters.

Clambering through the hole, Hermione shuffled wearily into the common room.

"Crawling up some teacher's ass again, Mudblood?"

"What in Grindylow's name are _you_ doing here!" Hermione yelled in shock, drawing out her wand, "And no I haven't been 'crawling up some teacher's ass – your ex-boyfriend switched patrol night with me and I had to intervene and stop the Slytherin ambush on the Hufflepuffs."

Pansy Parkinson stretched and then stood up from her position on the sofa causing the dress she was wearing to rise slightly giving Hermione a rather painful eyeful.

"What are you wearing anyway?" She asked, looking Pansy up and down –

"It's my negligee. But then I don't know why I say that like it should mean something to you!" Pansy sneered "Negligee is sexy – it makes a man want to go to bed." She purred, running her hands over her hips and thighs "Which is exactly why you'd know nothing about it – you couldn't be sexy if you tried."

If sexy meant that she had to prance around in her nightgown then she was glad that she wasn't! But still, she couldn't control the urge to take Pansy down a peg or two.

"But surely, Pansy, it would be a good idea to _wash _it – I'm not positive, being **_so_** inexperienced," Hermione mentally rolled her eyes,"But I'm pretty sure that brown is not the colour that that is supposed to be. And I'm also pretty sure that dried sweat stains" …Please God let them be sweat stains,"Are not sexy, nor are they a turn on."

Hermione made to walk into the bathroom but Pansy blocked her way.

"You know, Granger, you've got the kind of face that makes you realise that God really does have a sense of humour,"

Not knowing whether to be angry or laugh out loud at the irony of Pansy's statement, Hermione just looked down when her eyes were drawn to Pansy's toes. So she really did have hairy toes. And there was Hermione thinking that it was just a vicious rumour. You have got to feel sorry for a girl who has hairy toes, but then again, it is Pansy. Hermione mentally remonstrated herself. She is Hermione Granger, she doesn't think mean things, she's a nice person. She smiled despite herself. Merlin, she had been round Fred and George too long.

She stared at the floor, desperately trying to keep her amusement under control - she managed to minimise it to a smirk which she hoped to pull off as fury.

Sensing her urge to laugh dissipating, Hermione began to look up when her eyes focused on something that caused her to jump backwards in revulsion. Pansy Parkinson's long, silk and lace 'negligee' had a side slit …a slit that went up a discernable distance before stopping mid-thigh and displaying a large amount of white flesh.

"Jeeze, Parkinson, you ever hear of shaving?"

Pansy looked down at her leg, "I shaved them only two days ago."

Maybe the rumour she had heard about Pansy being half-yeti was also true. Next time Pansy shaved, she should stand a little closer to the razor.

Again, Hermione told herself off, mentally. What was that that her mother had always told her about not sinking to their level? She sighed. "Whatever. Much as I'd love to stand around all evening swapping insults with you, I'm going to go and have a shower. Feel free to wait for Malfoy and then seduce him into bed." Ok, so now maybe Malfoy would only have to do two months worth of her patrol duty.

Hermione darted around Parkinson and into the sanctuary of the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She couldn't help but smile at the thought of Draco returning back to find Pansy draped over the sofa in a tight nightgown stained with who knows what, with hairy legs and one thing on her mind. Hermione laughed as she imagined Draco's face.

Poor Guy. Lucius must have been really pissed off with Malfoy to try and set him up with Pansy. Hermione snorted. 'I wonder what he did…'

----------

"Draco! You're drunk!"

Hermione exhaled loudly at Pansy's proclamation – somebody give the girl a coconut.

Hermione took in Draco's appearance; a slight glaze to his usually clear eyes, the way his hand was holding on to the wall behind him for support, and the seven empty Alcoholic Butterbeer bottles he'd felt the need to bring home.

"And you Pansy," Draco's head reared up as he replied, "Are ugly, but in the morning, I shall be sober!"

Hermione giggled inwardly to herself. If it was anyone else she'd feel sorry for them, but Pansy is so spiteful it might actually do her some good. Hermione sniggered to herself again Yeah right! This is just an obscure attempt at revenge

"I would call you a stupid bastard, Draco, but that's an insult to all the stupid bastards out there!" Pansy spat back.

Blimey, thought Hermione with a mild expression of respect on her face; that was quite a good comeback.

Draco pushed himself away from the wall and walked towards his bedroom. "You know what Pansy? I never forget a face, but in your case, when this year is over, I will gladly make an exception."

"You're an extremely offensive young man, Draco Malfoy! You live with a Mudblood and you're offensive – you have nothing going for you." Pansy stated coldly at Draco's retreating back.

Draco turned around as he neared his door, his face still showing the bizarre expression of distaste that he had had ever since the argument had begun, "As a matter of fact, we both are, and the only difference between us is that I'm trying to be, and you just can't help it."

"Oh do the world a favour and go and play on the M25!" Pansy hauled herself out of the portrait hole, slamming it shut behind her.

Draco turned to Hermione who was just stood staring at where Pansy had left struggling to maintain her dignity.

…as much dignity as one can muster when having an insult-hurling-argument with your ex whilst wearing nothing but your silk and lace underwear after hoping to be forgiven and then hop into bed with him.

"You and Pansy really have it in for each other, don't you." She commented, unsure as to Draco's mood.

He barely even glanced at her when he replied. "She cheated on me."

Hermione's eyes opened wide in shock, "Who with?"

"Justin Finch-Fletchley. I was going to dump her anyway, she just gave me another reason – she reminds me too much of my father."

Silence followed Draco's statement. Hermione didn't know what to say – she was glad they had broken up. She was happy that Draco had ostracised himself from his father, even if it had taken Narcissa's health, and Lucius' death to do it.

"What's the M25?" Hermione's looked up in Draco's direction - he wore an expression of vague puzzlement.

Hermione chuckled. Pansy obviously took Muggle Studies.

"It's probably the busiest motorway in Britain," She told him but seeing that Draco still didn't understand Pansy's insult, she continued, "A motorway is a major road designed for high-speed traffic that has separate carriage ways for different directions and certain restrictions on the types of vehicle and driver allowed on it."

"Oh." replied Draco.

Then, without warning, he keeled over backwards.

----------

"Draco!" Hermione hurried over to Draco's side, "What's wrong?"

He opened his eyes and gazed at her for a second before sighing, "Felt like lying down."

Ugh, Hermione grunted inwardly, drunk logic!

His eyes snapped into focus, suddenly serious, "She called you Mudblood."

Hermione smiled at him, "I know; I was here."

"She shouldn't have done tha'" he looked at her lips, a puzzled expression forming on his face. "Why are you smiling? It was an insult."

She just shrugged, "I don't really care. 'Mudblood' is a word that I'd never heard of before coming to Hogwarts – it doesn't mean much to me." Hermione smiled again, "Anyway, you're forgetting that you call me Mudblood all the time; you are a hypocrite, Mr Malfoy."

Used to, she said in her head. He used to call you Mudblood. Before all that stuff with his father happened. She marveled at how quickly her mood had changed. Not long ago she had been ready to strangle the git and now… now she felt a strange kind of empathy for him.

"'Fectionate nickname." He muttered sleepily, closing his eyes.

"Wake up, Malfoy!" she demanded, slapping his cheek.

Truth be told, she was a little worried that he had concussion; if he didn't wake up she would definitely have to take him to the hospital wing.

"You need to go to bed – either that or the hospital wing!" she said, trying to raise her voice, but not really wanting to disturb the peace he had obviously found.

"Shh." He hushed her, keeping his eyes tightly shut and simply flailing one arm around uselessly. "Sleep needed. Head hurts."

"Oh, for Hinkypunk's sake! Draco Malfoy go to bed now! If you don't get up then… then…" Hermione struggled to find a suitable threat. "…then I'll… make you." She finished trying to ignore how lame it sounded.

"Puh!" He replied. But groggily he opened his eyes and started getting to his feet.

Placing her hand between his shoulder blades, Hermione gently guided Malfoy over to his bed.

"You should live a little Granger – loosen up. Go out, have fun, get drunk. If I want to sleep on the bloody floor then I will!"

Hermione sighed. Nice Draco who stuck up for her had obviously vacated Malfoy's body.

"Very funny, Malfoy. Now, can I trust you not to puke in your sleep?" she asked, raising an eyebrow in speculation whilst trying to put the bed covers over him.

Draco made disgusted noises for the entire time, but didn't actually do anything to try to stop her.

"Why would you care if I choked?"

"I wouldn't." Hermione countered tartly. "I just don't feel like having to live with Ron whom Dumbledore would undoubtedly pick as your replacement." She answered as she started drawing the drapes around his four-poster.

"Wha's wrong with you and Weasley? Thought you'd love to live with your boyfriend." Draco quizzed as he threw back the blankets Hermione had patiently placed over him.

Hermione paused for a moment, looking at him wearily, before she tutted and began to put the blanket back over him whilst giving him a withering look.

"We would argue more than we do now. Ron is great, but it would also mean Harry would be all on his own." Draco opened his mouth to speak but Hermione carried on talking, "And I know we argue, but arguing with you is more entertainment, it's not personal; you don't like me and I don't like you; there are no sentimental feelings to be trampled on like there are with Ron." She finished smoothing out Draco's blankets and leaning over to take his wand that he was holding in his hand.

Draco moved his hand out of reach causing Hermione to have to lean further across his body. She was so close to him now that she felt his breath on her elbow – it was strangely thrilling. She grasped his hand and pulled at the wand. She snatched at it, pulling herself back with it, yet remaining a little closer than necessary to Draco.

"Besides," she said, "Ron and I aren't going out; he's going out with Lavender." Hermione was gazing deep in to his eyes; the grey was strangely hypnotizing.

"Don't kiss me." Draco suddenly blurted out. Hermione snapped out of whatever spell she had been under and straightened up.

"You wish! Never in a million years would I kiss you." She pointed out.

Draco smiled, knocking Hermione slightly off balance. "You know you want to, why deny it?"

Ugh! To think that she had been thinking protective thoughts about this jerk.

"Get a grip Malfoy," she replied, "like I would!"

Draco willingly misinterpreted what Hermione meant, "Nah, that's true, you couldn't kiss me unless I _let_ you, and I'd never _let_ you kiss me."

Hermione's mouth was agape, "Let me? Let me? Hey, if I wanted to kiss you I would kiss you and there would be nothing you could do about it!"

"But I wouldn't let you." Draco stubbornly stood his ground, once again kicking off the blanket Hermione had pulled over him.

Hermione's pride flared up dangerously, "I could get you to kiss me!" she replied, tugging at the blanket Malfoy had just kicked off and tucking it viciously under the mattress, effectively pinning Draco to his bed.

"Five galleons says you can't!" Draco dared.

Hermione looked slightly shocked at the fact that words were already forming in her mouth accepting the challenge. It wouldn't be as if she would _enjoy_ the challenge… She couldn't believe that she sounded so fake even to herself. But more importantly than anything she could never pass up a chance to prove Malfoy wrong.

"Ok," she barked, "I accept."

Putting his wand on the bedside table, she left his room but didn't go to bed. It was nearly three o'clock in the morning and she was shattered, but she needed to wait until Draco was asleep so that she could put a sobering charm on him so that he didn't actually choke in his sleep… much as that could be seen as the answer to all of her problems.

Not long after settling herself in front of the fire in their common room, Hermione became aware of gentle snores coming from The Prince of Darkness' room. Taking that as her cue, Hermione cautiously opened his door and crept in a little closer.

'Perform the charm and I'm one step closer to bed! Now I just need to go and see the Dobby…'

----------

'She better bloody well be impressed that I've done this for her. Aspirin – I ask you, what kind of wizard ever uses anything called 'aspirin'? Thirty minutes spent talking to that blubbering house elf Winky, all so that Granger doesn't have a hangover tomorrow morning. You're going soft, old boy!'

Draco's thoughts were cut short by a sense of foreboding filling his senses as he approached the usually still portrait of the four founders of Hogwarts – vibrations were causing the picture to jump dangerously and then crash back against the wall.

'It can't be that bad.' Malfoy paused in the hallway, trying to reason with himself. 'It just can't be that bad. Probably she just got a surge of energy and decided to do…stuff'

'But what can she be doing to create such vibrations?' He argued with himself '… probably it's nothing. What's the worst that can happen? She could get out of bed and start running around into inanimate objects again… SHIT!'

"She's going to do major damage to that brain of hers!"

Practically shouting the password, Malfoy sprinted into the common room.

'Empty,' he thought, 'Phew!'

Draco's relief was short-lived; upon opening the door to Hermione's room, Draco was treated to the sight of Hermione - still absolutely wasted and still wearing the short red skirt and black halter-neck top from her night out – but she was now joined by none other than Miss Ginevra Weasley - prancing around on the bed, leaving not a whole lot to the imagination, whilst singing the muggle karaoke hit 'I Will Survive.'

Hermione appeared to be singing the actual lyrics, unlike Ginny who was un-tunefully shouting her own made-up version a couple of beats later than Hermione,

Draco felt like throwing himself out of the window at the prospect of the youngest Weasel being as drunk as Granger.

"I should have changed that stupid lock!"

"Useless lock!" Ginny chimed in.

"I should have made you leave your key!"

"I want that key back!"

"If I'd have known for just one second,"

"One moment!"

"You'd be back to bother me!"

Ginny paused, mid-song, her roaming eyes had finally come to rest on Draco leaning nonchalantly against the doorjamb.

"Go on, now go!" Hermione continued, not noticing Ginny's pause.

"I said get lost! Ginny launched straight back in to the song, throwing herself full-force into her dancing whilst never stopping glaring at Draco.

Was Weaslette talking to him, he wondered. "No?" Draco replied quietly, just in case she had been.

"Walk out that door!"

"Get lost!"

Ok, that seemed more of an order. "No." Draco repeated, a little louder this time.

"Just turn around now!"

"Get out of my room!" Ginny's face was now bright red from the physical exertion.

Draco was incredulous at Ginny's last comment, "It's more _my_ room than _your_ room!"

"'Coz you're not welcome anymore!"

"So bloody well get lost!" Ginny exclaimed, forgetting all pretenses of singing, she picked up one of Hermione's pillows and threw it at Draco's head.

"Ouch! That nearly got my eye!" he yelped, swatting away the cushion.

Still singing into her hairbrush, Hermione was completely clueless as to what was going on around her. "Weren't you the one who tried to break me with goodbye!"

"Yeah you were!" sang the youngest Weasley, throwing the second pillow at Draco.

"No I wasn't!" he remonstrated.

"Did you think I'd crumble?"

"Like a cookie" Ginny's eyes glazed over as her train of thought de-railed. "Or any other kind of biscuit…Mmm, cookies. Or desserts full stop. Mmm, ice cream. Mione, can we go get ice cream?"

But Hermione wasn't listening, she was fully engaged in the singing and look genuinely caught up in some movie scene playing out in her head.

Draco, on the other hand, heard Ginny's comments and his mouth was open slightly with a pool of drool forming at the corner of his mouth.

'Mmm, dessert… ice cream…. Hermione…Head-Girl…with ice cream… mmmmmm.' He shook his head to try to clear his thoughts, growling in frustration when his brain just would not comply. 'Professor McGonagall in a leopard print bikini! Professor McGonagall in a leopard print bikini eating cookies… mmm, cookies. Dessert… Hermione…mmm… cream… STOP IT! Professor McGonagall in a leopard print bikini!'

"Did you think I'd lay down and die! Oh no not I!"

"No, no, no!" Ginny pouted as she realized that she was out of pillows but her smile quickly returned as she reached for the hefty book on Hermione's bedside cabinet instead.

Draco just stared as he saw Ginny pick up the book in slow motion. "Uh oh"

"We will survive!" the two girls chorused together

His brain snapped back into action before Ginny could wind her arm back and take aim, "No, you really won't survive." He muttered before brining out his wand, "Petrificus Totalus!"

With one fluid movement, Draco hit both Ginny and Hermione in a full body-bind. For the second time in an hour, Hermione found herself flat on her back with no real clue as to how she got there. Draco left his position by the doorway, and leaned over them both,

"Sorry, but you two were getting fairly…active," And dangerous, he added to himself, _ "_So I had to stop you. I'm going to let you up now, but you have to promise to behave." He eye-balled Ginny, "And not throw books at me."

Not really knowing what to take as a sign that they promised, Draco simply took the charm off. Ginny and Hermione both instantly dissolved into fits of giggles, while Draco kept his stance over them, hands on hips, and an eyebrow quirking in confusion.

"So, you will survive, huh?" he asked conversationally.

Hermione blushed; not having noticed Draco's presence in the doorway to her bedroom was going to haunt her for a long, long time.

"She sang 'Like a Virgin' by some Muggle called Madonna earlier – at the bar – it was excellent! She danced and everything!"

"Ginny was just returning my wand." Hermione cut it, squirming even more after Ginny's announcement. For some reason, she didn't want to talk about virginity in front of Malfoy, regardless of any context it was being used in.

Draco smirked, "Great, well now that the wand is returned, maybe you should head back to your dormitory." He suggested, taking a step back from the bed.

Ginny jumped up and smoothed down her skirt, "See you tomorrow, oh and he really does! Sleep tight 'Mione!"

"Bye Gin!"

"Bye Ginny," Draco waved as she exited the bedroom and shut the door behind her. Turning back to Hermione, he took in her appearance, "You sang 'Like a Virgin' in front of an entire pub? How much have you had to drink?" he asked dubiously.

Hermione blushed a little; "It seemed like a good idea at the time." She stammered. "And not that much! Enough to be incredibly happy and giggly, but not enough so that I have no idea what I'm doing…"

Draco's eyebrows practically disappeared as they shot even further up his forehead, "You sang 'Like A Virgin' in the middle of a crowded pub and you are trying to claim that you knew what you were doing?"

Before Hermione could think of a suitable reaction to Draco's comment, there was a crash, followed by a thump, closely followed by a high-pitched whine coming from the common room.

"Owwww."

"Oh for the love of Merlin." Draco sighed, "Not again." But he was actually secretly pleased. Draco was drawn to Hermione's blush and the idea of Professor McGonagall in a leopard-print bikini was still doing nothing to help.

He left Hermione's room, just as Ginny had done moments before, and there on the floor was the littlest Weasley; flat on her back, broken table lamp at her feet, and roses strewn about her.

"Ow." She moaned again.

Kneeling beside her and checking for broken limbs he sighed, "What happened?"

Gingerly putting a hand on her head, Ginny simply groaned, " Bastard aliens."

Draco blinked. Had someone put some kind of hallucinogenic drug in their drinks tonight? First something about mutant albino spiders and now something out aliens? Even though he hadn't been drinking Draco knew that he was going to have a worse headache than either of them in the morning. Trying to understand drunk females was too much. He just thanked his lucky stars that neither of them had started crying – that really would have been too much for him to take.

He took a deep breath before asking calmly if she hurt anywhere.

"Bastard aliens and their bastard ectoplasm stuff. Look!" she exclaimed, "It's all over the floor!"

Draco fought both the urge to laugh in her face and the urge to shake her until she came back to planet Earth, but his brain suddenly snapped back to the event of earlier that night.

'Of course' He mentally slapped himself, He had forgotten to clear the water up from where Hermione had knocked it over earlier. He sighed, deciding that for once he was very lucky; thank God it was the Weasel and not him – he could have really injured himself.

Ignoring her comment about aliens, Draco held his arm out to her, "Do you think you can stand up?"

Deciding to try, she nodded her head and got to her feet, holding onto Draco's proffered arm.

"Hermione's right, you know," she said thoughtfully, "you do have great forearms…I might even declare them sexy." She exclaimed, smiling crookedly at him and simultaneously reminding him how drunk she was, but he was momentarily stunned all the same – Granger thought he had good forearms. Granger thought he had _sexy_ forearms.

"Come on," he said, finding his voice at last even though it was a little huskier than he remembered. He led her slowly across the common room and through the portrait hole.

"I'll help you back to your common room. Merlin knows you won't get back there by yourself. But if your brother even tries to blame me for getting you drunk, you're on your own. And if you tell anyone that I've been being nice, I'll make sure the whole school knows what colour your knickers are."

----------

Hermione shivered as she walked down one of Hogwarts' longest corridors, quietly attempting to make it back to the Head Prefects dormitories. She pulled her cloak more tightly around her and clamped her jaw shut so as to lessen the noise her teeth were making as they chattered. Ok, so being Head Girl did mean that she had certain privileges as far as being out after curfew, but she was pretty sure that that didn't extend so far as four o'clock in the morning.

Hogwarts Head Girl sighed to herself as the portrait of Salazar Slytherin, Godric Gryffindor, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Helga Hufflepuff came into sight.

_Home! _She thought cheerfully.

"Duty Done!" she said. The portrait opened, permitting her to enter.

Without even pausing to listen to see whether Draco was still asleep, Hermione stepped in to his room, stopping only for a second to let her eyes adjust to the dark. Walking quietly, Hermione went directly to his bedside cabinet, taking out a parchment letter from her pocket she propped it against a glass beaker that was already there. Hermione added two white tablets to the glass, and finally summoned the water jug from the other side of the room using a whispered "Accio" charm.

She marveled briefly at her ability at having managed to summon the relatively full jug of water without spilling a drop before she quickly set it down next to the other things and exiting Draco's room before he could wake up.

Hermione leaned against the door that had just closed – the well-lit common room was blinding compared to Malfoy's room.

She rested her eyes briefly for a moment and pondered why she was helping him so much. Sure, she'd do the same thing for Ron and Harry, or any of her friends, actually, but Malfoy was different. He wasn't her friend. It's true, they had called a strange truce that still involved heated arguments, but the difference was that the hate just didn't seem to be there anymore. She sighed, things really do change.

Hermione had been all over the castle, trying to track down some aspirin for Draco's head in the morning. It was a simple idea, yet it wasn't so simple to fulfill. She quickly learned that the hard way; the wizarding world didn't do aspirin. The sobering charm she had cast on him didn't include getting rid of hangovers – that was a whole different kettle of fish – the inability to balance and make sense would be gone, but the fowl mood, awful headache and nausea had to be gotten rid of the old-fashioned way.

Malfoy would just have to go up to Madame Pomfrey in the morning and hope that she didn't decide to make an example out of him.

'If you're old enough to get drunk then you should be old enough to deal with the consequences,' she would snap.

But Hermione hadn't given up, she couldn't. She would not be beaten unless all efforts had failed and even then she'd sit and think for hours about other possibilities. No, instead, she walked to the kitchen and found that most of the house elves promptly set to work on the chores that all of them had been avoiding. Only Dobby had been willing to talk to her.

"Miss Hermione! What can Dobby get for you?" he squealed as he saw her, hurrying to her side.

"Dobby! Oh I am so glad you're here! The others seem to be ignoring me." She said, surveying the busy elves in front of her.

Dobby looked uneasy, but he whispered to her regardless, "They is scared Miss Hermione will S.P.E.W, Miss."

"It's S.P.E.W, not spew." She stated, before shaking her head and clearing her throat. She was becoming agitated, but she didn't want to lose her temper. "Dobby, can you do me a favour?"

Dobby hopped from foot to foot, he looked positively ecstatic at being asked to do something. "Of course, Miss Hermione, Dobby will do anything, Miss Hermione."

"I need some aspirin, it's a muggle drug used to thin the blood. I've been all over the castle to try and find some, but I have had no luck. Do you think you could find some?"

Hermione had been expecting Dobby to be confused, but he obviously knew what aspirin was and where to get it because he vanished around the wall of the kitchen shouting, "Miss Hermione wait here, Dobby will get aspirin for you!"

So she did what she was told. She waited patiently for forty-five minutes, occupying herself by writing instructions to Draco on how to use the drug and promising that it wasn't a form of poison and then began writing letters to the house elves about their oppression and why they should fight it. Eventually Dobby returned looking slightly disheveled, but happy nonetheless. Running up to Hermione, he thrust a packet of aspirin in her hand and smiled at her.

"Dobby searched all cupboards but found some in Professors Snape's draw. Miss Hermione had better get to bed now – It is for Miss's own good."

Gladly following Dobby's advice, Hermione left the kitchen after thanking him profusely; her thoughts drifting happily through her mind as she imagined her bed and the comfort of drifting off to sleep in it.

----------

Draco walked quickly down the oh-so-familiar corridor, noticing with relief that the portrait marking the entrance to his dormitory was not vibrating wildly as it had been doing earlier that evening. He had successfully deposited Ginny Weasley in her dormitory and into her bed without waking anyone and without running into Potty or the Weasel.

Entering the common room, he let out the breath that he had been subconsciously holding in – everything was normal. There were still roses and water and a smashed lamp on the floor, but that was explainable, there was nothing new to the room that was odd. Noticing that Hermione's door was closed and no light was trying to escape from under her door, he reasoned that she had probably gone to sleep and decided to just give her the aspirin in the morning.

It therefore came as a complete shock when Draco walked in to his own room, and found Hermione rummaging through his bedside cabinet.

"What on Earth are you doing, Granger?" he all but yelled at her.

She hadn't noticed his presence and so jumped and sprang away from the damning evidence, only managing to get her pyjamas caught in the draw as she slammed it shut. The material of her pyjama bottoms restricted her efforts at running away and instead she fell once again, to the floor.

Draco watched her fall and grimaced inwardly; maybe he should sober her up a bit…

Muttering a sobering charm under his breath, he pointed his wand at her and watched as nothing visibly happened. He'd just have to assume then that the spell had worked.

"Hermione, what were you doing in my room and going through my stuff?"

She made no move to get up, instead just swivelled her head, resting her cheek on the cold stone floor – she found it oddly soothing. Her eyes darted around the room as if searching for a reply.

"Mutant albino spiders…" she trailed off as she noticed that Malfoy wasn't buying it and sighed deeply before huffing a bit, muttering garbled words and smothering her face with her hands "… I was looking for Evil Malfoy – you've been nice to me this evening so I named you nice Draco. I just can't figure out where Evil Malfoy has gone…"

Draco still didn't believe her – she wouldn't actually look him in the eye, something that Hermione always does when defending herself and telling the truth.

He couldn't be bothered to read too much into it, His sobering charm obviously didn't work though otherwise she wouldn't be willingly tangling her already knotted hair.

"Come on Granger, time for bed." he said in what he hoped was a soothing voice; she looked remarkably green and the thought of her throwing up over him was enough to force him to consider even trying to be nice.

Hermione rolled on to her back to look at him properly. She giggled as he put his hands under her arms in an attempt to pull her up. Hermione looked deep into his eyes,

"Are you going to join me?"

Draco looked straight back into her eyes. The green tint had changed to a pink-ish flush which he found a lot more becoming. It took a moment for him to formulate a coherent reply.

"I don't think that's a good idea." he smirked, pulling her to her feet and putting an arm around her waist, guiding her carefully into her bedroom for the second time that evening.

Hermione pouted, that wasn't the answer she had been expecting.

"Why? Am I not beautiful enough for you? Do you not think I'm physically attractive?" she asked him in her most wheedle some tone, batting her eyelids madly (which, Draco noted, just made her look deranged) and pouting.

He simply smirked some more whilst successfully manoeuvring her, once again, on to her bed.

Hermione was grateful to feel the soft bedcovers beneath her, but that didn't stop her from sitting upright and grabbing Draco's hands as he made to remove them from her waist.

He sighed inwardly, "Granger, lie down before you puke over me."

Well what did she expect him to say? Lie down before I kiss your stupidly attractive pout? She would freak out; even if she was being genuine when she asked him to go to bed with her, for her to learn that that's what he wanted more than anything would scare her to death.

He pushed her gently back down, his hands on her shoulders.

As quick as a flash, Hermione fastened her hands around his wrists and gave a forceful tug, pulling him down on to her.

Draco was in shock; she moved so quickly for one so drunk! He didn't know what to think; one side of his brain told him to get up to leave, to not pay attention to the fact that he was now pressed firmly against every inch of her body. The other part of his brain told him to stay; it told him that she wasn't so drunk as to not mean what she was doing.

"Malfoy, kiss me."

He was gazing at her lips – so tempting.

Draco cleared his throat, "No."

"Go on," she urged, "kiss me."

It was almost like a dare but he wasn't going to fall for it. "No." he replied again, yet he still made no effort to move.

Hermione had noticed this and took it as a good sign.

"Well if you don't kiss me then I'll just have to kiss you." She said lightly as she released one of his wrists, bringing her hand up and snaking it round his neck, she pulled him down even closer. Hermione tilted her chin slightly and her lips met his. She kissed him for all she was worth; nibbling on his bottom lip seductively before she pressed more urgently, her tongue slipping into his mouth.

Draco was finding it very hard not to react to Hermione as she kissed him passionately, moaning softly as her tongue explored his mouth. He used all of the self-reserve in him to refrain from participating more in the kiss. He longed to knit his hands into her hair, to match Hermione's force with his own. But he couldn't, or rather, he didn't.

As quickly as it had started, it had finished. Hermione was definitely flushed as she pulled away, but Draco still looked unmoved. Once more she sought eye-contact – a funny glint in her own. Draco looked down at her, clearly torn between what he should do next.

She sighed before speaking in the most British accent she could muster.

"Not bad, Mister Malfoy, but I must say, only three out of ten. I really am disappointed – you'll have to do better next time."

He didn't move. His face and eyes gave nothing away, but there was one hell of and internal struggle going on inside of him.

Hermione propped herself up on her elbows and smiled brightly, a funny glint dancing through her eyes. "Oh, I see." She said, clearing her throat quietly. "That _was _the best you can do. Well, all those students who fantasize about the King of Slytherin _will_ be sad. All of those rumours, lies." Sighing softly, she enjoyed watching Draco's inner-turmoil, "Well, Ron for one will be glad – he's always claimed that he was a better kisser than any Slytherin, I guess now I know it's the truth-"

She didn't get any further. Draco was goaded past acceptance. He pushed his lips against hers and she readily gave in, opening her mouth to let Draco's tongue tease her own. Hermione's senses were on fire. Soon she was arching her body in towards his, simpering with pleasure. All too soon he pulled away and simply watched her breathing quickly, trying desperately to regain her composure.

_Who knew rumours could be so true! _She pondered, she had never kissed Ron, but that didn't matter, Draco didn't need to know that, besides, she was positive that only Draco could kiss like _that!_

----------

"Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow!" Hermione groaned, holding her head. "Why did the damn closet have to move? Everything in this castle moves. Staircases. Pictures. Suits of Armour. People."

"People are supposed to move."

Hermione blinked up at Draco. "How did you know what I was thinking?"

Draco smiled "You were thinking out loud. And just so you know the closet didn't move. You were drunk, got your heels caught in the rug, lost your balance, destroyed practically everything in your path and then ran head first in to the door of the aforementioned closet."

Hermione closed her eyes, burying her head further into her pillow. "You enjoy torturing me don't you."

"You also kissed me last night." He said, wondering what her reaction was going to be. He had been awake for a while and was worried about how she would react to finding him lying on her bed. Granted, he was fully-clothed and above the covers, but still. He decided to smirk to make Hermione think he was trying to make her uncomfortable.

Hermione emerged again, smiling a genuine smile and saying, "I know, I was sober, remember?"

"You weren't!" Draco snorted.

She just continued to look him in the eye, a smile playing on her lips

"You mean my sobering charm worked?" he asked in disbelief.

"Excellently," Hermione chuckled, "But now for something that you won't remember from the night before last. You owe me five galleons, Mister Malfoy."

It was Draco's turn to smile knowingly,

"Yes, I remember making that bet with you. You said you'd never let me kiss you." He said, smiling a little more at her obvious confusion. "So I thought the best way was to get you to kiss me." Draco added trying to pull off an innocent expression when all Hermione could do was look bewildered.

Her expression suddenly turned, a coy smile playing across her face as she asked shyly, "You wanted to kiss me?"

Draco simply smiled at the sight of her. Her hair was tousled from sleep, she had flecks of mascara smudged under her eyes, and she was playing with a tassel on the corner of one of her pillows. Ok, so it was a half-smile, but it was infinitely more genuine than his infamous smirk.

She couldn't help but smile back before leaning across and kissing him good morning.

"Oh," she started, pulling away smoothly, "even though we're going to be doing more of this, and hopefully more often; I still want those five galleons. You may have been planning it but I still won. Oh, not to mention I need them - I just lost a bet to Ginny."

A.N. Ok, I know it's a little clichéd but please be kind, read and review!  I may even give you a coconut?


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